


Metempsychosis

by SashaDerksen



Category: Creepypasta - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Backstory, Canonical Character Death, Classical Music, Drama, F/M, Illuminati, Implied Relationships, Moral Dilemmas, Murder, Original Character-centric, Past Character Death, Post-Canon, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Drama, Reunions, Serial Killers, annabelle isn't too edgy for a creepypasta oc, psychological thoughts abt murder, this is just really angsty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-03
Updated: 2017-12-03
Packaged: 2019-02-10 05:46:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12905376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SashaDerksen/pseuds/SashaDerksen
Summary: In which Annabelle sees someone she never expected to meet again. They both have secrets that need to be told after two years of separation, and terms to come to.





	Metempsychosis

**Author's Note:**

> I have had this plot in my head since I joined this mess of a fandom back in 2014, and transferred it into written form only now. Like my most works, it's basically an analysis with a plot. It's probably extremely OOC, but that's for the sake of angst.

Over the past week, Annabelle had more or less adjusted to what had happened to her. She hadn't even completely accepted this "transformation". Knight of the king of the darkness? Part of the Illuminati? Chosen one? Yeah, right. The girl had even inspected her house and food for drugs, that was the extent of the bizarreness of the situation. But deep inside her mind, she understood that she couldn't deny it - she had allowed her evil side take over. Even if Zalgo had claimed to be the one who transformed her, it had happened by her own will. Truthfully, she wasn't even surprised. Her parents hadn't even called her in the past few weeks, only communicating with her via Facebook messenger. School was getting worse, fortunately she had more time to focus on her studies, as Annabelle was, though not a loner, not the most popular person, and perfectly fine with that. All she needed was a few acquaintances, anyway.  _ He _ was the last person who she had considered close to her, but ever since those events two years ago she had forcefully made herself forget, she cut herself every time she thought of  _ him _ because  _ he  _ was gone and was never coming back.

Angry at her train of thought, Annabelle punched the nearby pillow and was about to slam her laptop shut when she noticed a new file on her desktop. Another message from Zalgo.

_ "You are overthinking again. Your mind is now a temple, get rid of all negative thoughts."   _

"Easy for you to say. You don't have PTSD and a huge weight of your past on your shoulders." The girl said out loud. She  still felt like a lunatic speaking to an otherworldly deity out loud, but her mind was too clouded for her to communicate with him through her thoughts.

The file was suddenly gone and a new one appeared just as fast.

_ "Be on the lookout, child. Remember, I am in charge of your destiny now. If you perform well in your duties, I might just reward you."  _

"As if I haven't suffered enough." Annabelle rolled her eyes and the file disappeared, but this time, it wasn't replaced by anything. 

With her only companion gone, somewhat disappointed, Annabelle shut the laptop and walked into her kitchen. Becoming almost a spirit, a messenger of evil had really made her lose her appetite, but she had a fridge full of food and she couldn't allow it to go bad. She took out a carton of chocolate milk and a salad. She always dined alone, considering the fact that she lived alone, it was obvious. Annabelle knew of the many popular girls who envied her position: they would kill to have their house all to themselves year to year because they would be able to bring friends over and party freely. She remembered how her own parents allowed her to do this while they were out, she was sure that they probably had enough money to buy a dozen of houses like hers. She felt like she was missing great opportunities, even though she was an introvert and disliked unnecessary socialization. Annabelle had hosted only one party, courtesy of popular acquaintance of hers. It was a typical high school party, and Annabelle would be lying if she didn't enjoy herself, but she had done that only once, and she was content with that.

The ringing of her house phone brought her out of her train of thought. She was slightly surprised at this, because she hadn't received any phone calls since winter break started, since this "transformation" happened. Figuring it was simply her parents finally calling to check up on her, Annabelle put down the fork and unreluctantly picked up the phone without even checking the caller's ID.

"Hello?"

For a few seconds, there was only silence on the other end. Annabelle came to the conclusion that this wasn't her parents, or maybe they just accidentally dialed her.

"He-"

"Yes, hi. Have I reached Annabelle Torres?"

"Um, yes. Who is this?" The girl figured that this was probably someone from school, but the voice of the person of the end sounded awfully familiar, she couldn't put her finger on who it was.

"Oh, I suppose you don't remember me. I lived on Blackbird Lane 243, we were neighbors, friends?" 

Annabelle's heart immediately froze. She knew only one person who lived on Blackbird Lane 234 and her eyes instinctively darted to the window facing said house, which had been faced off as a criminal scene for two years now. "I swear to God, if you're joking..." She whispered quietly - her voice was gone.

A chuckle emitted from the other end, "I knew you didn't forget. This is Jeffrey Woods."

Annabelle  didn't know what to say. The girl was thankful that she had been sitting down when she accepted the call, she would have blacked out instantly otherwise. So she simply sat on the chair by the kitchen table with her mouth agape and her eyes wide. She couldn't believe this.

"I didn't even realize I was in Virginia until I walked to the highway and saw the license plates of the cars here. I'm calling from a payphone - I still have the paper with your number on it with me. Wait, that came out weird. Oh, whatever. I just wanted to say that if you want to see me again, which is probably highly unlikely, all you have to do is say so."

A small laugh escaped Annabelle's lips, followed by another, and another, and soon, just like that, she was sobbing with the phone pressed up to the side of her face. Out of relief, fear, joy, she didn't know.

"Hey, it's fine. You don't have to-"

"Do you realize how long I've waited for this? They told me to get over it, to forget, and I did, but deep inside I knew that I'd meet you again. Oh my God, this is a bloody miracle." She tried to compose herself, but was failing miserably, "Do you remember my address? Where are you now? Damn it, I'm not getting my license for another two years, but if I take the Ford in my garage it won't be that bad, right? I can drive, I won't get pulled over. Even if I do they'll understand, they have to! I can't believe this is actually happening."

"Annabelle, everything's alright. I remember where Thornbild is, I'm only, like, forty minutes away." Jeff tried to assure the girl, but more and more did he realize that he probably plunged her into a hysteria.

"Okay, okay. The sooner we get off the phone, the sooner we see each other. I'll be waiting, alright? Get here safe." Annabelle had calmed herself to say this, and they both hung up the phone. As soon as the call was over, the girl buried her face in her knees, she cried and laughed at the same time. She was feeling so much, she wasn't sure she was feeling at all.

After barely a minute, she opened her eyes to fully calm down and prepare, but she realized that she was not in her living room. Annabelle recognized it as the same place she was turned.

"Hey, hey! I'm sorry if I did something wrong, but please, don't do this now! What is about to happen back home right now is really, really important." She yelled in disbelief and stood up.

"You seem to forget that the time spent in the otherworld is not counted as time in your dimension. When you get back, it will be the same time as when you left." The girl recognized this as Zalgo's voice. His tone seemed oddly concerned.

"What's going on, then?" She distrustfully asked.

"I brought you here to notify you about upcoming events. I know what's about to happen in your life is incredibly important to you, but you are blinded by the joy of your past. You need to be warned about that boy, he has changed, he is dangerous. He has sent many souls over here, and you can't be sure he won't try to do the same to you. They call him Jeff the Killer, he isn't right in the head." 

Annabelle became angry at the whole situation. She still wasn't used to Zalgo having complete access to her life and thoughts, so him knowing every detail of everything irritated her. And how dare he say something like that about the only person she ever trusted?

"I think I can handle myself, thank you very much. And just exactly how do you expect Jeff to behave when he was mistreated his entire life? We understood each other because our parents hated us, we were outcasts at school. You know everything, don't you? So you should know all of this." 

"Are you justifying mass murder without a cause?"

"Is a Devil judging me for doing so?"  

The girl could practically feel Zalgo's frustration, but she continued.

"You have no idea of how much that boy means to me. You can alter any part of my life as you wish, but please, please, don't take Jeff away from me again." Annabelle pleaded.

The void around her stilled and she could hear a faint sigh, "I am simply telling you that you need to be cautious. You can be hot headed and allow your emotions take hold of your body and soul, and that is beyond dangerous in this situation."

Annabelle bowed her head, "I understand. I'll do my best."

When she looked up, she saw the interior of her living room and sighed in relief. The encounter with Zalgo had calmed her, and she even began to consider her superior's words. She clearly remembered what Jeff was like when they last saw each other, the sickly pale skin, singed black hair, and, of course, the deep, bloody, cut in smile, which nearly gave Annabelle a heart attack back then.

The girl shook those thoughts out quickly. So what if Jeff looked different than what she was used to? That didn't change the fact that he was her beloved best friend, her soulmate. It didn't erase the past they shared, nor did it mean much aside from physical appearance. Annabelle looked different now, too. Her hair was a bloody auburn, and her eyes matched that color, and her skin was lighter as well. They were even, everything was fine.

Concluding her thoughts, she walked up the stairs and into her closet, to change from her usual house clothes. At random, she picked a black and white striped sweatshirt and black jeans. Noting how her style has changed over the years, she still kept the multicolored sweaters and her collection of skirts and nylon tights, but she rarely wore them. She believed that wearing monotone colors and not caring about her appearance came when the only source of joy she had was taken from her.

A loud knock on her door brought the girl out of her melancholy rant, and before she got the chance to spark another train of thought, she was already running down the stairs. She cast her eyes downward and opened the door. 

Annabelle didn't look up when she threw her arms around the surprisingly frail figure of the boy she had waited for so long. She didn't need to suppress her tears, she didn't even think she could. 

Jeff didn't have any time to react when Annabelle pulled him in a sort of an embrace. To be honest, he was worried that she wouldn't accept him, whether for his looks or for what he has been doing for the past two years. He was almost entirely sure that the hoodie in which Annabelle was so quietly crying into was stained with the blood of his last victim.

With a shaky sigh, Jeff raised a trembling hand and placed it on Annabelle's head, and wrapped his other arm around her torso.

"So we finally meet again." 

After a two-year long killing spree, a life filled with drugs, alcohol, depression, he couldn't accept the fact that here he was, holding the girl he considered an anchor in his life, the only thing that kept him from ending everything, in his arms. Just like two years ago, when his family was alive, when everything was at bay and okay and normal.

Jeff only realized that he was crying himself when he turned to look at the house which he once called his. He half-expected his mother to open the blinds to the front window, or see his brother in the upstairs bedroom, or his father's Audi to park in the driveway. Instead, he only saw the "condemned" police tape, a bitter reminder of his mistake. Had he fallen so deep into his madness that he only now realized the whole outcome of his actions?

He buried his face in Annabelle's hair, the tears kept flowing from his never-closing eyes. 

"What have I done?" Jeff bit his lip at the whimper that followed the phrase. 

Annabelle sighed and pressed the boy closer to herself. She couldn't even begin to understand the pain Jeff was going through, especially if this was the first time he saw the house since the whole incident happened.

"Every person has the right to a mistake, big or small. Understanding the root of the mistake is  abe big step." She stated softly.

"No matter what I do, I'll never be able to atone for the crime I've committed. It's no use." Jeff shook his head. Perhaps, he thought, he should have killed himself with his family.

"Our sins can't be changed once they've been done. All we can do is accept them and extract a lesson from them." Annabelle pulled away from the embrace and took the boy's hands into her own as she looked deep in his eyes, "Your family is your family. They have forgiven you, I'm sure of it." 

Jeff looked at her tiredly, "I'm just glad you came out of that mess unharmed. I wasn't myself that night, I wasn't myself these past years." 

"All that matters is that now you're here. I can't believe I've lived long enough to see you again." The girl smiled, her voice cracking. She was immensely overwhelmed with the bliss of the the situation. Truthfully, she never expected to see Jeff again, accepting his own "transformation" and the fact that her happiness was gone. But no, what were their odds of meeting again? This was a miracle no less.

"Let's go inside. We aren't spending all night out here, are we?" The boy suddenly suggested. 

"Yeah, I'm sorry. I got carried away." Annabelle quickly apologized and moved from the doorway. It hadn't occurred to her in the midst of the moment that he had gone a long way from wherever he was before to their neighborhood. They both had a lot to tell each other.

"That's alright. I did too." Jeff walked into the all too familiar house and nostalgia tugged at his heart once again, "Everything's stayed the same." 

"I think I did it on purpose. Although, after you left, I was too emotionally drained to change anything. I didn't even move the clothes you left the last time you stayed over. Guess it was an underlying knowledge that you'd come back." The girl explained as they walked to the couch. 

"Wow. Although I can't blame you, I've done the same." They both knew why they made an effort to do all of these things. To not conceal the past, and hide and forget it, but to leave it on all's view. That was because so many months earlier, they stopped living their true lives. Their existence was put on pause. They existed day to day, not really dead or alive, waiting for a reunion, "But I can't say that a killer's life offers many luxuries either."

Annabelle felt her heart sink. She knew that Jeff was a killer, but he thought of her as an ordinary human being. She didn't particularly want to tell him about the transformation, but she didn't want to hide it either. There was nothing left to lose.

"Listen, about that. I have something to tell you. I don't really know how to explain it, but I hope you'll understand." 

And so she told him about the recurring files on her computer, about the strange otherworld, about Zalgo and the Illuminati. How she was forced to commit an attack to save her parents and that her hair and eyes were dyed with the blood of the many people she murdered, even if not by her own will. She even admitted to slightly enjoying what she had done, and what she was now. Remembering the pain, Annabelle's heart slowed and a lump formed in her throat. It wasn't easy to speak about, but she had to get it off her chest.

Jeff watched her conclude her story with a stunned expression. He knew from the start that Annabelle would not be free of the same sin he had committed: they were almost the same. But, nonetheless, he was still surprised that this seemingly innocent girl would murder, even if to save her own family.

"So your hands aren't clean either, huh?" Was the only answer he could come up with.

"I know I've done a horrible thing, I don't know how I'm going to live with this. I don't want to go to school anymore, I can't. I've killed before, I don't know if I can stop myself from doing it again if those bastards push me too far.  I can't face my parents either. Every time I talk or look at them I think about what I've done, and if I come clean, they'll lock me in either jail or the nuthouse. Jeff, I'm only fourteen, I don't want to live like this!" Annabelle started crying again. Her life wasn't supposed to go like this. She was supposed to graduate with straight A's, become a lawyer like she'd always wanted, work in a court, marry someone she loved, raise her kids. Anything, but definitely not become a killer for the Illuminati. 

"It's okay. You're going to be fine." Jeff cautiously pulled the girl in another hug. He understood what she was going through, he had been there himself. Ever since his family had moved into Thornbild, this awful feeling inside of him grew stronger and stronger, the urge to kill those who wished him harm. Annabelle was there for him when it happened, and he had to do the same for her, at the very least, "And you're telling this to a goddamn killer, for God's sake! Do you seriously think I'm going to judge you? If anything, I'm proud of you. It's difficult now, but believe me, it's much worse when your sanity is battling your true self. Knowledge is one thing, acceptance is another." 

The girl rubbed her bloodshot eye with the palm of her hand, "I suppose that's why you and I clicked from the start. We're of the same cursed nature."

"Cursed? Is being a killer really all that bad? Normal people have to live next to those who they hate every single day, and they can't do anything about it. And what if someone is a rapist, a traitor, a pedopile? Do they deserve to exist if they're more corrupt than you and I will ever  be?" Annabelle suddenly saw a flash of something that she could only describe as pure insanity on Jeff's face. She remembered Zalgo's warning and actually began to consider it. She didn't know what this Jeff was like, whether he would go as far as to harm her simply because she disagreed with his morals. (Were they really that bad? Or did she agree with them herself?) But she would only consider Zalgo's warning if she was as helpless as she had been when she was a human. Now, even though she denied it, her insanity was a fair match to his own.

"Well, if you put it like that, of course it doesn't sound as bad, but murder is still murder."

Jeff's eyebrow twitched at the girl's words. Of course, coming from a family of diplomats, she would have her own sense of justice, "Okay, let me explain it to you in familiar terms. We have death penalty here in the United States. And it's for those who are genuinely bad, and who don't regret doing those bad things.  When you kill, think of it as you sentencing these people to death penalty, because you're doing an honor killing, you're not killing innocents, are you? You've taken law courses, right? You get to be a judge at fourteen, bet you didn't expect that. So your dreams aren't ruined, after all. They're just executed differently."

Annabelle listened to him, and she knew that what he said was true. When she committed her first attack, she made a warehouse explode, but that warehouse was being used for human trafficking for several years now, and when she destroyed it, she destroyed the people who were in charge of said organization. Perhaps their evil nature was still there, but it was being used for a good cause. 

"You're right." She looked Jeff straight in the eyes with a look of despair, "But they won't think so in court. The law is the law, and complex morals aren't practiced there. If you or I are caught, we'll be the ones on death row."

The boy nodded with an understanding and slightly frustrated look. She was right as well, he didn't run from the police for no reason. Suddenly, a plan unfolded in his mind.

"I have an idea."

"What?"

"How about you go with me?"

The question was met with a confused red stare, so Jeff persisted, "You said yourself that you can't go to school or face your parents anymore." Annabelle still looked unsure in his words, so the boy exhaled sharply and took her hands into his, "You know that there's no one in this world who can understand us like we do each other. We've been through hell together and still came out on top.And I'm not leaving without you now. I can keep you safe, Annabelle. I can teach you how to live this lifestyle. I know you're not going to give yourself into the police, so what other choice is there?"

Annabelle's face softened at the suggestion and she actually began to think it over. They couldn't stay in the house: she was more than sure that Jeff was wanted by the cops in this area, and the school would get concerned and send the authorities over if she didn't show up there for a while. So she made the life-changing decision with a heavy sigh.

"Fine." The killer's eyes lit up at her agreement, "But we're staying here for the night." 

"Why just the night? Considering the fact that I haven't done anything in Virginia since the... incident, we can stay here for at least a few days." Jeff suggested as the girl stood up from the couch and moved into the kitchen.

"No. The longer we stay here, the more we get used to this space, and the more it will hurt once we leave. You know, the reason why people can't bring stray kittens into their homes for only one day? Same thing." Annabelle explained as she rummaged the cabinet for the small first aid kit, and the boy watched her intently.

"You shouldn't bring a lot with you, it'll just be more evidence to leave." He warned.

"I'm just bringing this and some water. I, out of all people, know how reckless you can be." She smiled and turned to face Jeff, the kit still in her hand, "And don't think I'm going to bring some kind of bag. Watch this."

Annabelle closed her eyes and shifted her focus to her being as a supernatural deity. Slowly but surely, four pairs of transparent arms flew up from her back to the ceiling. Their movement was limp and unsure, but still there. Annabelle carefully brought one arm down and placed the kit in its palm, which closed almost immediately, and the arms disappeared just as they came.

Jeff stared at the girl in utter shock. She had told him that she had gained new powers when she became Zalgo's proxy, but this was something very far from what he could have expected. Annabelle quietly laughed at the boy's state.

"I'm still getting used to them, but they're a great help. I can store things in them, I just need to be aware that I did. I can also use them as regular arms. Can you believe what kinds of piano pieces I'll be able to play once I'm able to use them freely?" The girl joked. She had practiced piano since she was a child, Jeff even now remembered how when they hung out at her house, Annabelle would sit by the piano for hours and play, only making mistakes when she focused too much. He also remembered how on the most stressful days, when Jeff simply wanted to murder all those who ever wished them harm, Annabelle would forbid him from that, despite wanting to do so herself. She'd just sit down in front of the instrument and play out her frustrations. Marches, ballads, even things she had composed herself, anything and everything that caught her eye would be included in her impromptu performances. And it calmed them both. Looking back on it now, those were probably the best memories the boy possessed. 

Instinctively, Jeff looked over into the living room of the house, and, of course, the piano was still standing there, just as it was two years ago. Nothing had changed, as expected.

"Do you still play?" He quietly asked. The memories prior seemed so quiet and gentle, the boy was stunned himself.

"Yeah, of course. I would've killed myself a long time ago if I had quit. I play to let out my negative emotions, just like the old times." Such a bittersweet answer, Annabelle felt a pang in her heart after the words registered in her mind. 

"Can you do it right now? I really don't think you'll get another chance." 

The girl chuckled, "I knew you were going to say that. But why not." 

Annabelle walked out of the kitchen and over to the instrument. With a quivering lip, she ran her hands over the lid and opened it slowly. The realization that she would have to part with it made her want to resent the past week, and maybe even the entire past few years. Annabelle decided not to dread too much over that fact, because she knew for sure that if she did, she would stay. 

"Make yourself comfortable, you know the routine." She stated as she sat down in the seat, looking directly at the keys "Oh, and if I start crying, don't pay attention. Just enjoy the music, alright?"

Jeff worriedly nodded and began to think that perhaps, this was a mistake. Even if that was so, Annabelle had already opened the sheet music and softly laughed in disbelief as she did so.

"I haven't seen this in ages."

Erik Satie's "Gymnopédie No.1", a simple, yet an extremely melancholy piece, and so fitting for this situation. 

The girl began playing with glassy eyes. Speaking in terms of whatever mental wellness she had left, she would have preferred something much more lighter to the heart, but her conscious wouldn't allow her to have the last song she would play on the instrument she had her entire life and not get as emotional as humanly possible. All of her dreams for a so-called normal life, her sadness, her regrets spilled out among the notes. She was afraid, yes, but she knew that she wouldn't die an idiotic death. Her eyes wandered to the boy, who sat on the couch, listening as intently as two years ago. He had changed, and so had she, but one thing she was sure of is that he knew what he was doing, and he would not let her die. The last bits of their sanity slipped away with the music, but this was no longer a simple classical piece, but a signal for the complete disappearance of the children they once were. Although troubled, they were content with their lives. Now their hands were stained with the blood of others, their minds were broken. A beginning of a grotesque lifestyle, filled with nothing but violence, fear, and savagery. And the only thing they were allowed to take with them was their memories and the hauntingly beautiful, simple melody. 

  
  



End file.
